The owner can fill this glass with what he or she wishes,
The contents of this glass can be enjoyed or loathed.
This glass can be empty and lonely,
It can be chipped and weathered.
It might be lost and forgotten,
Or found and treasured.
It could come in a set,
Or be left alone in this cold world.
It might be plain and boring,
Or maybe richly adorned.
Someone may love this glass,
Someone may envy this glass.
And maybe one day this glass slips out of the grip
Of a careless person and meets its fate.
Shattered and strewn across the floor,
Perhaps merely fixable damage is done.
Or maybe the damage is too great,
And the remains are swept away,
To be either remembered or forgotten.
This glass is a life.